In elementary school we read Harriet the Spy, and I promptly became obsessed with observing the world around me and writing it all down in my black and white marble composition book. I only used a red pen that I tied to a string and wore around my neck.
Through my days as a "spy," I fell in love with writing. In my head, thoughts were messy and jumbled around. But on paper, they were poetry.
Slowly I allowed other pen colors to grace the wide-ruled pages. I started writing more frequently. My content turned introspective as I used my notebooks as a way to process the day, remember experience, document sadness, and immortalize triumphs.
In high school, I was never without my journal. It went back and forth to school, a constant companion. Although I had moments of panic where I envisioned my journal being photocopied and hung up in the girl's bathroom, it didn't keep me from writing. And writing. And writing.
My journals sit in a big box under my old bed at my parent's house- one of the few things still waiting for me there. During the 1 or 2 times I get home a year, I love laying on the floor and reading page after page, reliving parts of my life, flipping quickly past others.
On Thursday, November 5, 2009 I wrote:
"I'm realizing how much I need to journal- how much it is a part of me. I long for the day that I can carry my box of journals out of my parents' house and they can come home to live with me. My journals are ridiculous and silly and mostly stupid ramblings that now seem meaningless, but to me, back then, they were everything."
I still journal, but it looks a little different these days. This blog is what much of my journals are. A way of remembering my life. Getting it all down and moving through.
But I still keep a paper-bound, hold-in-my-hands journal. One that I can pore out my heart to. One that I can rest my head on when I'm struggling to write more. One I can speak truth to. One that I can scribble it in and then tear it out.
The prayers of my heart go in my journal. Those conversations between me and the Lord are there.
Do you journal?
What do you journal about?
Because I feel so strongly about it, I will working on a few more posts about journaling. Do you have a story to share about your experience journaling? I'd love to hear from you!